


Little hearts

by Nefertiti_22002



Category: Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell (TV), Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell - Susanna Clarke
Genre: Hand Jobs, M/M, Oral Sex, Sort of but not quite PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-15
Updated: 2018-09-15
Packaged: 2019-07-12 15:04:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15997712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nefertiti_22002/pseuds/Nefertiti_22002
Summary: Childermass tries a little simple magic in the hopes of subtly conveying his desires to his master.





	Little hearts

**Author's Note:**

  * For [A belated birthday fic for Predatrix](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=A+belated+birthday+fic+for+Predatrix).



> Inspired by cy-lindric's wonderful second illustration of three for Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell. I don't know how to link it, but if you search the book's title on tumblr, it's the first thing that comes up. Deservedly popular. The little pink things hovering by Childermass's shoulder look to me like little hearts, and Mr Norrell is most puzzled by them. Hence my fic.

Childermass had been working as Mr Norrell’s man of business for just over ten years. His master was 35 years old, and by rights he should be out in the world, making a name for himself as a great magician, the first practical English one in nearly 300 years. Childermass had just turned 30 and was beginning to despair that all the work and expense of expanding the library and searching out rare ingredients for spells would go to waste. It had become increasingly clear that Mr Norrell would be content to sit here until he turned old and then older and then … Despite the fact that his avowed goal was to bring magic back to England, so far he had only brought it to Hurtfew Abbey.

One thing that comforted Childermass was that his master had at least brought magic into his life. He was allowed to read some of the more theoretical books about magic. On rare occasions Mr Norrell had given Childermass a simple spell that might be useful in the accomplishment of his duties. During one of Childermass’s more contemplative evenings, one of those nights when he pondered his current situation and whether it would ever lead to anything, he pulled open the bottom drawer of his desk and removed a neat stack of sheets of paper, held together with a ribbon.

Loving magic and longing to know more about it, he treasured this little packet above any of his other possessions. He had not cast all of the spells yet, but he had cast enough of them to know that doing magic thrilled him to his very bones. Even the modest spells he was permitted to employ had that effect on him. What could doing real magic, conceived by he himself, be like?

The spells he hadn’t cast had lain idle only because they required circumstances that had never yet occurred. Some of the more useful spells he had cast more than once each, but he had learned what Mr Norrell had long known. Casting the same spell a second and a third time, and so on, does not produce the same intense delight that the first time does. To know one has mastered a spell and succeeded with it provides a great part of that delight. Setting out to cast a spell knowing that it will work was more pleasing than thrilling. Of course, all of his spells had been perfected before they were given to him, so there was little credit to him in making them succeed, simple as they were.

Childermass undid the ribbon and began to sort through the spells. An itch has been growing in him and was bothering him that night more than ever—an itch to do some magic on his own. Not to devise a wholly new spell. At least, not yet. But he had hardly failed to notice that Mr Norrell sometimes revised his successful spells, adapting them for different purposes. Might Childermass be able to revise one of the spells his master had given him, for a purpose of his own? If he could manage to do so, it might be a first step toward devising an entirely original spell.

This was not the first time he has contemplated trying such a thing, but still he hesitated. What if he had no talent as a magician, not even the modicum required to change such simple spells slightly? What if Mr Norrell found out what he is up to? Surely he would become angry and might even fire Childermass—perfectly though his Man suited the very unusual duties involved in Mr Norrell’s Business.

One of the spells particularly intrigued him. He thought he saw a way to revise it with only two minor changes. It just might help him to solve a problem that had increasingly been oppressing him.

It had been Childermass himself who suggested that Mr Norrell compose the spell. There had been an unfortunate incident in which one of the landholders whose property adjoined Mr Norrell’s had nearly tricked him into signing an agreement that would have been considerably to his master’s disadvantage. Childermass had pointed this out to Mr Norrell, and a nasty scene resulted, with the landowner objecting strongly to the insolence of a servant interfering in such a fashion.

As a result, Childermass had advised his master to create a spell to allow for silent warning, the idea being that if Childermass ever foresaw danger in a situation where someone was visiting—and Childermass was far better at reading people’s intentions than Mr Norrell was—he could subtly summon up some little shapes appropriate to the situation to float inconspicuously in the air above the deceiver’s head and warn his master to be cautious. 

Childermass had had two occasions to use the spell, both in relation to a devious banker. He had conjured up little images showing stacks of guineas and then made them vanish in a puff of smoke. Afterward he had explained to Mr Norrell what the banker had been trying to talk him into. Mr Norrell’s subsequent indignant complaint to the bank’s owners had resulted in that gentleman losing his position. 

Thus Childermass knew that the spell worked. But what if it could be used for some other purpose? Not for warning but for revealing something through hints? Childermass read through the spell and pondered it. Eventually he began to make notes, with several cross-outs and revisions, until he had a draft of a spell that might serve his purpose. He read it through several times, took a deep breath and cast the spell. The shapes he had specified appeared as planned. 

Now the only question, he thought with his crooked, ironical smile, was whether he would have the courage to cast it in Mr Norrell’s presence. Maybe he himself needed to be warned off doing so. But no, his situation was plaguing him to the point where he must act, whatever the consequences.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++

The next afternoon, Mr Norrell was seated on his favourite sopha in front of the fire, happily reading a newly acquired and quite rare book. Childermass had found it for him, and consequently, being in a generous mood, his master occasionally read a passage aloud to him or remarked on how useful some of the ideas contained in the book were. This put Childermass in a cheerful mood as well, and he decided that this was the time to try his spell.

He pulled out the slip of paper containing his variant of the original spell and silently read it through one last time. After dithering nervously for a few minutes, he whispered the spell. Immediately little shapes appeared in mid-air and began to float toward Mr Norrell.

Childermass watched anxiously as the shapes drifted past the edge of Mr Norrell’s field of vision. He looked up from his book and stared at them, baffled. 

“Did you conjure these little … things, Childermass?” he asked suspiciously.

“Yes, sir,” Childermass replied. After all, who else could have done so?

“Using that spell for sending me surreptitious warnings, I presume.”

“Exactly, sir.”

Mr Norrell leaned forward slightly and adjusted his glasses on his nose as he peered closely at the shapes.

“If you are practicing in case you ever need to employ that spell, I must say that these little … whatever they are … do not convey any sort of a warning to me.”

Childermass sighed. He should have known that subtlety—if this tactic could count as subtle with anyone but Mr Norrell--would get him nowhere.

Mr Norrell peered even more intently as the shapes hovered about his head. “They appear to be … can they be hearts?” He stared at Childermass in a rather stern fashion. “Perhaps you are practicing in case any hopeful mama from the neighborhood visits with an eye to foisting her daughter on me as a marriage prospect. I must point out that such visits have long since ceased, once I made it clear that I had no intention of marrying at all, however beautiful the young lady might be. Besides, I always understood quite well what those mamas were about, and I had no need of any such warning.”

Childermass pressed his lips together and stared back at him for a moment and then sighed and looked down at the carpet. He shrugged. “Let us just say it was … a little test of the adaptability of the spell.”

Mr Norrell nodded vaguely, took one last look at the little hearts bobbing in front of him and returned his eyes to his book, though he did not appear actually to read it. 

Childermass sighed again and muttered a few words. The little hearts disappeared. Childermass sat despondently, having little will to return to his work just yet.

After staring at his book for a short time, Mr Norrell glanced up at the air where the hearts had been and looked around the room, as if thinking that they had drifted elsewhere. Finally he gazed at Childermass, who returned his look with a neutral expression.

“Were they hearts?”

Childermass nodded and looked away.

Mr Norrell considered for a moment. “I had not realized that you have learned enough magic to be capable of adapting a spell in that fashion. It … it was quite skillfully done.”

Childermass hesitated and replied quietly, “Thank you, sir.”

Mr Norrell hesitated for a far longer time, wringing his hands slowly. “Why … why did you make them disappear?”

“You did not seem to be interested in them, sir. Indeed, you appeared to consider them an unwelcome distraction from your work.”

“I … I was rather taken aback by them and could not fathom why you should be casting them. As I said, they seemed of little use as a way of sending me warnings, since these days unwanted overtures concerning marriage are hardly likely to threaten me. I … I …” He trailed off, shifting slightly on the sopha and avoiding Childermass’s gaze.

Childermass waited briefly for him to continue and finally said, “It’s of no consequence, sir. Though I do appreciate your kind words about my skill in adapting and casting the spell. I am relieved that you were not angry at my doing so.” He considered returning to his own work but found he still had neither the strength nor inclination to do so just yet.

Mr Norrell was again silent for a short time but did not return to his book. At last he said in a casual manner that seemed to Childermass rather forced, “Well, why should I be angry? It was, after all, a spell that I gave you—and that you have used successfully and to my advantage. I suppose I should be grateful that you are making sure that you could adapt it to different situations in which you might find it necessary to warn me about … something. Though … now that I come to think of it, it might be possible that you were in fact trying to warn me of something. But given that only you and I are present, I would think you could have simply told me what you meant.”

“No, no, it was not an actual warning. It was simply a test to make sure that I could, if necessary, adapt the warning spell. You may recall that you devised only a small number of shapes for me to draw upon if I needed to alert you to some danger. Luckily it did prove adaptable, as you saw.”

There was another awkward silence. Mr Norrell stared into the fire. Abruptly he blurted out, “But why did you chuze hearts?”

Childermass forced a smile. ‘It is no matter why, sir.”

Mr Norrell blushed. “It occurs to me that … uh, it would be pleasant if you were using that spell to … express your, uh, liking for me.”

Childermass stared at him. “Indeed, sir, I suppose that was why I choze hearts. I do enjoy working for you and being here in the Hurtfew library and, well, I do like you.”

Mr Norrell was breathing more heavily and staring at him with a look which he could only interpret as hopeful anxiety. Childermass himself became a bit more hopeful and considerably more anxious himself, but he rose and slowly walked over to stand beside Mr Norrell’s sopha.

His master stared up at him, and Childermass wondered if they would simply stay as they were for hours, each waiting for the other to act. It was up to him, he realized, for they could be there all through the night and into the next day before Mr Norrell made a move. Well, if he lost his position over what he was about to do, it would be just as well. He really could not continue any longer to bear his frustrated affection for Mr Norrell.

He reached out and placed his hand gently on Mr Norrell’s shoulder. Mr Norrell swallowed and looked down at it before slowly raising his own hand to rest it on Childermass’s. He said so quietly that Childermass barely heard him, close though he was, “I like you, too, Childermass.”

Childermass struggled to prevent the smile that appeared on his face from turning into a broad grin. In response, something that might be an attempt at a smile crept onto Mr Norrell’s face. Childermass leaned down and pressed his lips against his master’s and moved them slowly, brushing and sucking slightly.

The result was not impressive in terms of any contribution that Mr Norrell was making to the proceedings. Even so, Childermass sensed that the man was fiercely concentrating on even the tiniest movement of his mouth in what must be the first romantic kiss he had ever experienced. The thought sent heat rushing to his groin. He knelt, embracing Mr Norrell and pulling him to the edge of the sopha. Their mouths drew apart slightly during this maneuver, but soon they were pressed together harder than before, with Childermass attempting and eventually succeeding in pushing his tongue into the magician’s mouth.

For a moment he thought that Mr Norrell would pull away, but he merely shifted slightly and awkwardly put his arms around Childermass’s neck. Childermass gave a faint moan of pleasure, raising his hands, which had been resting on his master’s spread knees, and embracing him around the waist. By now their kiss was deep, and Mr Norrell was beginning to grasp how he might play an active role in it.

At last they drew apart to catch their breath, and Mr Norrell hugged Childermass tightly, so that their cheeks were pressed together. His panting stirred the long hair over Childermass’s ears and caused another surge of desire to wash over him. He turned his head slightly and kissed Mr Norrell’s cheek, moving forward until he could swirl his tongue into his master’s ear. At once Mr Norrell uttered a shrill little moan and hugged Childermass even more tightly.

Soon Childermass pulled back and looked intently into Mr Norrell’s face as he unbuttoned the man’s breeches-front. To his surprise, Mr Norrell squeezed his eyes shut and even seemed to hold his breath as Childermass pulled down the front of his breeches and reached inside his smallclothes to bring out a nearly erect cock. 

As he leaned down to kiss and lick it, he glanced up and found that Mr Norrell still had his eyes closed.

He pulled back and said, “I suspect that you would enjoy this more, sir, if you were to watch me.”

Mr Norrell’s eyes fluttered open, and he slowly lowered them until he could see Childermass slide his lips down over the tip of his cock and take most of its length into his mouth. Mr Norrell sighed a soft “Oh,” and continued to watch, fascinated, as Childermass began to bob up and down on his now-hard erection. 

Childermass suddenly paused and drew off him. Mr Norrell squeaked and squirmed slightly in disappointment, but Childermass simply said, “I would not mind if you touched me while I’m doing this. That is, I would enjoy it.”

Mr Norrell reached down, slowly and tentatively and caressed Childermass’s cheek and then his ear and finally his hair lightly. Childermass looked up at him, smiling around his cock. In return, Mr Norrell smiled such a radiant smile that Childermass gulped and lost his rhythm. He had often seen a similar smile when he presented Mr Norrell with a rare book that he had traveled far to obtain, or when Mr Norrell succeeded in casting a complex spell that Childermass had helped to prepare and been permitted to watch. But never had such a smile been directed at him. He continued to stare into Mr Norrell’s eyes as he quickly regained the rhythm of his mouth’s movement along the hard cock. 

They looked at each other until Mr Norrell finally grimaced, feeling his climax approaching. He began to huff and finally stiffened and groaned loudly, his eyes closing again despite himself. Childermass tightened his mouth and sucked fiercely at the swelling length. He swallowed adeptly and drew out the fading fillips of pleasure until at last Mr Norrell suddenly went limp and sank back against the sopha cushions, panting hard—though his hand continued to pat softly at Childermass’s hair. Childermass knelt unmoving, staring at his master’s delighted face as if striving to memorize it and savouring the gentle caresses.

Finally Childermass rose, rubbing his knees briefly as he sat on the sopha beside his master. He opened his own breeches and brought out his own rock-hard member, stroking it slowly with one hand as he placed his other arm around Mr Norrell and pulled him close. 

Soon Mr Norrell’s eyes opened, and the first thing he saw was Childermass’s generous endowment being squeezed and pulled within inches of his own body. He stared at it in considerable surprise and delight. Soon, however, his delight changed to uncertainty. 

“I … well, I am not quite certain …”

“Do not worry, sir. I do not expect you to perform the same action on me that I did on you. Not this first time. I’ll just take care of it myself for now.”

But Mr Norrell looked quite disappointed at that. “But I am used to … that is, I often relieve my desires in the same way you are doing now. I could try to do the same for you … if you would like.”

Childermass took Mr Norrell’s right hand and brought it up to his lips before gently placing it on the shaft of his cock. “I would like that very much indeed.” He leaned in to kiss Mr Norrell deeply as the man began to frig his cock slowly and tentatively. The kiss continued as Childermass moaned softly and then increasingly loudly as his master’s hand tightened and sped up. He pulled Mr Norrell’s body against his own and thrust into his hand until his ecstasy hit him, and his seed arced up and fell on Mr Norrell’s waistcoat. Neither noticed.

They sat still for a time, embracing and allowing their breathing to return to normal. They grew drowsy, especially Mr Norrell. Wanting to savour this moment rather than fall asleep, Childermass put up his hand to cup and caress Mr Norrell’s cheek. He did not expect much reaction, but eventually Mr Norrell turned his head slightly and kissed Childermass’s palm.

This was so surprising that Childermass gasped. Mr Norrell noticed and kissed the heel of his thumb, softly, lingeringly, with flicks of his tongue. It has not occurred to Childermass that his master would be capable of such finesse, and he leaned forward slightly to kiss Mr Norrell’s cheek. Mr Norrell turned his head back and kissed his mouth. The gentle kiss went on and on and …

Once it eventually ended, they sat embracing for a time, nuzzling and stroking and simply sitting pressed against each other.

At last Mr Norrell looked up at Childermass. He seemed almost sad. “I feel that such a momentous change in our … situation deserves some sort of celebration. Yet I could hardly … well, invite you to sit down to dinner with me.”

Childermass wondered whether this statement implied that such an invitation would lead the “other” servants to suspect that the two were now intimate, or simply that Mr Norrell did not wish to sit down to dinner with a servant. He decided to believe that the statement probably reflected a little of both reasons. He would have to accept that. He could accept it, given how far his situation had advanced in the last half-hour or so. If his new lover had been any one but Mr Norrell, he would be expressing his delight in more noisy, energetic ways, but now he simply sat, overwhelmed and afraid to make a wrong move.

So there was another brief period of embracing, but at last Mr Norrell said, “Childermass, we need to clean my waistcoat before you, um, seed completely dries on it.” 

Childermass released him and went to moisten his handkerchief at the silver ewer that Mr Norrell kept filled purposes of magic. Once he had removed the mess from his master’s waistcoat, he reluctantly suggested, “Perhaps we should return to what we were doing before I cast my little spell, sir.”

Mr Norrell nodded. “Yes, I should go back to my reading, and you no doubt have work to do.”

They stood up and looked at each other rather awkwardly. Childermass decided that again it was up to him to end the impasse, and he embraced his master and kissed him, slowly but not passionately. The embrace ended, and they turned back to their respective tasks.

An hour or so passed, during which they occasionally looked briefly up at each other with fond little smiles before returning once more to their work.

Eventually, however, Mr Norrell put his book aside and went to sit at his desk, placing some paper before himself and beginning to write upon it. He composed his text slowly, stopping to think and then writing again. He did this for some time, no longer looking across at Childermass. Indeed, he seemed no longer to be aware of his new lover’s presence.

Childermass still glanced up at him at intervals, hoping to exchange the same little smiles as before, but each time he was disappointed. Had his master so soon dismissed what had passed between them? Did it matter so little to him? Or perhaps they had simply not looked across at each other at the same time. He paused in his own work and steadily watched Mr Norrell for a considerable interval, but the man did not glance up once. 

Childermass was beginning to feel quite discouraged, despite the joy he had finally induced his master to exchange with him. Even though Mr Norrell had obviously delighted in their amorous activities, might he feel little lingering affection for his partner?

At last Mr Norrell set aside his pen and slowly read over the text he had written. Glancing briefly at Childermass, he returned his eyes to the page before him and whispered a spell.

At once tiny pink shapes appeared in front of Childermass. They were hearts, very similar to the ones that he had earlier conjured to alert his master to his affection. They floated in the air in front of Childermass, causing a relieved grin to spread across his face. If he could not have dinner with his master, these seemed to provide an appropriate celebration.

Mr Norrell said, “I imagine that the gong for dinner will ring soon. We will perforce part from each other. And yet … Would you …” Mr Norrell said hesitantly, “would you care to share my bed tonight, Childermass?”

“I would very much enjoy that, sir. We must be careful, though, to make sure that none of the servants become aware that we have done so.”

“No, of course, you must wait until they have retired and there is no danger of your presence in my bedroom being noticed. Should I expect you later, then?”

“Nothing could keep me away, sir, since you are willing. I shall also take care to return to my own room early in the morning.”

After exchanging another fond smile, they returned to their respective work. Childermass, however, was not able to focus on his tasks, since Mr Norrell’s little hearts had moved with him to his small desk and were still hovering before his face. He could not help but look at them. He glanced over at his master, who seemed once more absorbed in his reading. Childermass decided not to remind him to say the few words that would cause the little hearts to disappear. Nor did he say those words himself until eventually the dinner gong sounded. With a little grin at the thought of Lucas finding them in the air when he came to bank the fire, he murmured the words that caused them to fade away.

Childermass stood and crossed to open the library door for his master. Mr Norrell paused beside him and said with a trace of anxiety, “You are not regularly trying to do magic—that is, to become a real magician—are you?”

Childermass was too happy at this point to let this familiar subject discourage him. “No, sir. I am well aware of your rules on that subject. It was only that I felt this particular spell might prove beneficial to us both.”

Mr Norrell smiled, stood up on tiptoe to kiss his cheek and went out to have his dinner.


End file.
